


There is light

by lyrawinter



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Petyr is a vampire but he doesn't bite anyone in this fic, Prompt: Upcoming Storm, This is a story about hope, agweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27189793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrawinter/pseuds/lyrawinter
Summary: Petyr has lived in a skyscraper since he was bitten by a vampire. One day Sansa visits him.
Relationships: Petyr Baelish/Sansa Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	There is light

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! It's agweek!!! :-) I'm so excited about this week. I love this fandom, and I can't wait to see your contributions (fics, fanvids, drawings, gifs, etc). I'll be checking aidangillensource on tumblr :-)
> 
> So far I've written this and a shorter fic for tomorrow, but I'd like to write at least another prompt, though I can't make promises.
> 
> The prompt I used for this fic is _Upcoming Storm_. Petyr is inspired by Paul Serene from Quantum Break. As I wrote this fic, I watched the Paul Serene x Sofia Amaral fanvid by Inspieos on youtube. I highly recommend it :-)
> 
> English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy it regardless Thanks for reading! :-)

Only Arya knew that Sansa was there.

Her father had been arrested, accused of killing King Robert. Her mother had taken a plane to King’s Landing as soon as she got his call from jail.

Robb, Bran, Rickon and Arya were in Braavos. Syrio Florel, the sword instructor her father had hired to train Arya, had taken them to his home after Jon sent them a letter to Winterfell.

In his letter, Jon had told them The Wall was melting down. Sansa and Arya had asked him to go to Braavos, but he hadn’t listened to their pleas.

_If all the members of the Night’s Watch leave, who will contain the attack when the Night King destroys The Wall?_

His choice of words hadn’t gone unnoticed. He hadn’t said if, but when.

His cousin was willing to sacrifice himself in order to give them an opportunity to survive. 

She couldn’t go to Braavos. There was nothing she could do there, other than to wait for a miracle. Arya must go. Her sister could fight; she’d help Robb protect Rickon and Bran, but Sansa wouldn’t be useful there. Robb and Arya would have to protect her too if the Night King and the White Walkers arrived in The Free Cities.

 _When the Night King and the White Walkers arrived in The Free Cities._ It was a matter of time; there was no point in pretending otherwise. There was an ancient prophecy that predicted the biggest storm on this planet. A storm that would hide the sun for months, causing a long night. The prophecy said it would happen this year. Many people were certain that it would be then when the Night Walk broke the Wall.

And there was another truth, even more painful than the realization that the Wall wasn’t indestructible:

None of them, not even the fierce dothraki warriors, would stand a chance against the Night King and the White Walkers.

Unless… unless Sansa got the valyrian steel dagger.

Finding it wasn’t a problem. She knew who had it. The man who owned it might be the problem, however. Sansa didn’t know him personally but he was one of the most famous people of the decade, and her mother had also told her stories about him.

Petyr Baelish had been in love with her mother (an unrequited love, according to her story) and had a fight with her uncle during a football match the summer before he started university. The incident had been reported in the local newspapers. Mr Baelish had ended up in the hospital with a deep cut from his collarbone to his navel. After being discharged from hospital, he’d left Riverrun and moved to King’s Landing, where he’d gotten a degree in Politics.

He’d also been her aunt’s second husband (her first husband, Jon Arryn, had been a member of The Cabinet. Evil tongues said Mr Baelish had an affair with Lysa when Mr Arryn was still alive, and that Lysa had convinced her husband to give Mr Baelish a job as his assistant).

Mr Baelish had become the Minister of Economy, and many people had believed that someday they’d sit on the Iron Throne, the name the seventh Prime Minister of Westeros had given his presidential chair, a gift from the Prince of Pentos in the 18th century. The chair had been used by every president since then. 

But sometimes, the pictures we saw in our minds were just that, pretty pictures that would never become a reality. Mr Baelish was an ambitious man and he prided himself on his strategic thinking. Political rivals, scandals, foul play… Surely he’d had them in mind before making a decision. A leaked document, a photograph, an illegally recorded conversation could ruin a political career and even a reputation. 

Sansa was certain he’d been careful about what he said and who he met in his private life. However, Sansa bet that he had never thought about the possibility of being bitten by a vampire.

It had happened last year, when he was the Minister of Economy and lived in a big mansion, with dozens of bodyguards looking after him.

No one knew how the vampire had breached the security. The fact was that the creature had managed to enter his bedroom at night and turn Mr Baelish into one of them, a monster that sucked blood from humans to survive.

And just like this, his plans got crushed and his political career ended.

He’d left the capital shortly after and bought an abandoned skyscraper in Bitterbridge. The rumors said that he was trying to find the cure to become human again.

Sansa had never met a vampire, but she’d heard they were one of the most dangerous creatures in the world, as dangerous as the wyverns, the firewyrms or the dragons. Perhaps even more dangerous because they were much more numerous and they blended in with humans. His fangs were retractable. A vampire could come closer to you in the market or in a pub, and you would suspect nothing. You might think they were just another customer in search of a product or someone who wanted to flirt with you.

By the time you realized your mistake, the vampire would have bitten you.

Sansa was aware of the risks, but she also knew that there weren’t any other options if they wanted to save the world. Arya had protested at first, of course she had. Mr Baelish wasn’t just a vampire. He was also the man who got rejected by their mother and the man who almost died after his fight with their uncle. 

However Arya had ended up agreeing with her, just like Sansa guessed she would do.

Her sister couldn’t bear the idea of Jon dying for nothing either.

*

The sky was violet when Sansa stopped in front of the skyscraper, a steel building with tinted glass windows, that looked straight out of a futuristic movie. The facade was metallic blue, and it leaned forward in a threatening way. Sansa shifted her weight, feeling uneasy. 

This wasn’t an inviting sight, but hers wasn’t a courtesy visit either. She was here to ask Mr Baelish for the dagger. It was their only hope; the only way to prevent the end of the world.

She took a deep breath and approached the front door. There was a button on the left, near a security camera. She pushed the button before her resolve could falter. She couldn’t walk away without the dagger. She wouldn’t. 

A female voice interrupted her thoughts:

 _Name and purpose of your visit._

“Sansa Stark. I need Mr Baelish’s help.” Sansa guessed it was best to be straightforward. If Mr Baelish knew he was the one who called the shots, he might be more willing to see her.

Right?

A silence fell over her, and she clasped her hands. It was alright. The woman was probably telling Mr Baelish that he had a visitor. This silence wasn’t a bad sign; it was normal, she tried to reassure herself.

She didn’t know how long she waited. The sun was hiding on the horizon when she heard a buzzing sound, and the door opened on its own.

Mr Baelish had agreed to see her.

*

A woman was waiting for her in the foyer. She was dressed in white: blouse, skirt and blazer. The woman didn’t greet her; instead, she opened a drawer and pulled out a stone necklace. She was wearing one around her neck, Sansa noticed. The stones were deep amber, the color of melting sugar. 

The woman’s heels clicked on the floor as she came to Sansa.

 _Click. Click. Click._

“Welcome to BaelishCorp,” the woman said, but her voice wasn’t warm and her eyes didn’t smile. Sansa recognized her voice. It was the woman she’d spoken to over the intercom.

She offered Sansa the stone necklace.

“Put it around your neck. These stones have proved effective against vampires.”

Sansa glanced at the security guards. They were wearing stone necklaces too.

She looked back at the woman. 

“What do they do exactly?”

The woman furrowed her brow in confusion. She must have expected Sansa to take it without hesitation. After all, who wouldn’t want protection against vampires?

“They just act as a repellent, like an invisible barrier” the woman explained, and she sounded a little annoyed. “Mr Baelish won’t get too close to you if you wear it.”

“Okay.” That sounded harmless. Sansa had feared the stones would inflict pain on him. Being turned into a vampire was terrible enough. She didn’t want to cause more suffering. 

Once she put it around her neck, the woman nodded briefly, her face unreadable again. Now she looked like an automaton; the sight was a little unnerving. 

“Please, accompany me,” she said.

They walked over to the blue door at the back of the room. Sansa looked back; she expected that at least a security guard would follow them, but none of them moved from their spots. Beside her, the woman entered the access code and pushed the grey button. 

_Ding_ The red light turned green.

“This way. Mr Baelish is waiting for you in his office.”

*

Sansa stared at the numbers as the lift went up the liftshaft. She breathed in and out slowly, trying not to think that she was about to meet a real vampire.

Was Mr Baelish able to smell fear?

Sansa thought of the stories she’d heard about the first vampires that settled in Westeros, how they were incredibly beautiful, more than any other creature, and how they used their beauty and charm to seduce humans before killing them or turning them into new vampires. The next generations of vampires weren’t as beautiful as them, and that wasn’t good because it allowed them to pose as humans. They also seemed to have gotten more brutal; they didn’t use the seduction techniques as much as their ancestors.

When the lift doors opened, the woman gestured for Sansa to get off the lift first. A bright light turned on by itself when Sansa did as she was told, illuminating a long corridor with numbered doors.

“Mr Baelish’s office is the number sixteen,” the woman said behind her.

They didn’t speak as they walked. The woman’s footsteps were the only audible. It seemed there weren’t any carpets in the building, and Sansa thought that perhaps this wasn’t just a decorative choice. Perhaps, Mr Baelish didn’t want stuff that could muffle sounds in his skyscraper.

Was he able to hear them right now?

“It’s here.” The woman stopped in front of a door. There wasn’t any name plaque, only the number 16.

The woman knocked on the door.

“Come in.” A male voice sounded on the other side.

The woman turned the knob and stepped inside without looking at Sansa. Should she enter too? The woman hadn’t told her to wait here, so after a moment of hesitation, Sansa walked inside too.

Sansa didn’t know what she’d expected to find here, but certainly it wasn’t this. The room didn’t look like an office at all. It looked like a laboratory. There were thousands of machines, many of them so strange that she didn’t know what they were for or how they worked. She recognized others though: there were microscopes and boards with formulas, and temperature controllers.

One would expect to see several scientists working here, but there was only one person.

A man with grey temples that looked like blue under the artificial light, dressed in a black shirt and a silver suit. He was standing beside a desk, near the door. 

“Mr Baelish.” The woman spoke. “This is Sansa Stark.”

He locked eyes with her for the first time. Gray green eyes stared into her blue eyes; black pupils dilated. Something flickered beneath his gaze. Recognition. Confusion. His eyes were so expressive, and she knew without doubt that he wasn’t looking at her like a prey, but like a ghost from the past.

 _He’s thinking of my mother._ A chill ran up her spine.

The flicker vanished, and with it the emotions.

“Sansa Stark,” he said in a distant tone. He didn’t close the distance between them. His gaze fell upon her neck.

The stone necklace was stopping him.

She knew she should say something. He clearly was expecting her to speak. 

“Mr Baelish.” She swallowed and tried her voice to sound more confident. “I know we have never met before, but I’ve come here because I need your help.”

He tilted his head and studied her. Now there was wariness beneath his eyes. He was looking at her as if trying to predict her next move. Sansa couldn’t blame him. Her arrival had brought back unpleasant memories. Her mother’s rejection. The fight with her uncle. The hospital stay. The past and the present were now intermingled in his head as he stared at her.

“What kind of help?” he finally asked.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about the Wall,” she began.

He nodded.

“It’s melting down,” he said.

“Yes. And it’s just a matter of time before the Night King breaks it.” Sansa paused. Then she thought of her family and her friends, her voice sounded stronger: “I know the valyrian steel dagger is the only effective weapon against him.”

Mr Baelish gave her a piercing glance.

“And you know I have it,” he finished her sentence.

“Yes.” She had expected to see a smile tugging at his lips upon the realization that he was in a position of power, but his face remained serious. 

“I’ve heard your cousin is at the Wall,” he said.

“Yes. Jon is a member of the Night’s Watch.”

“I’ll send him the dagger.”

His words caught her by surprise.

“Will you?” A flicker of hope filled her chest. Perhaps she’d been worried for no reason. It’s been very easy to get his help.

Too easy.

“Under one condition,” he added, and Sansa tensed.

“What… what condition?” Did he want her blood?

“You will stay here until the Night King is defeated,” he said, his tone emotionless, but she saw something stirring in his eyes. Something she couldn’t decipher.

“What? Why?” she asked.

“This is one of the safest places in the world.”

Something tugged at her chest. She’d almost expected him to tell her that this was his revenge: since he couldn’t have the mother, he would have the daughter. But it seemed… it seemed like he wanted to keep her safe.

_You can't be certain_

She knew she should ask him what his intentions were exactly; what he wanted from her if he wanted something at all, but instead, she just said:

“Okay.”

He nodded. She really didn’t have any other options if she wanted Jon to get the dagger.

“Good. I’ll send your cousin the dagger now. In the meantime, Ava will show you your room. Ah, before I forget: you can send as many letters to your family as you like. I’d prefer not to have any angry Stark members showing up at my door if they don’t have any news from you in the coming days.”

That would be something Arya would totally do. Sansa smiled at the thought. 

“Okay,” she said.

She didn’t move. Mr Baelish didn’t either. He kept watching her. 

“After you,” he said finally, motioning to the door. A smirk crossed his lips for the first time, but it was a bitter gesture. “I’m sure Ava has told you what effects the lovely stone necklace you’re wearing around your neck have on me.”

Of course! He couldn’t leave the room unless they walked away. They were blocking the door, and he couldn’t get any closer.

“Sorry,” Sansa mumbled and turned to Ava. The woman nodded and began walking without seeing him off.

But Sansa looked back at him and said.

“Thank you Mr Baelish.”

He remained silent.

Sansa turned around and followed the woman, who had already stepped outside. As she crossed the threshold, Sansa could feel his eyes still on her.

*

Mr Baelish didn’t visit her nor did he offer her his company at dinner. Sansa didn’t know if he ate something else aside from blood, or how often he feeded himself, but she had expected dinner time to be a good opportunity to talk to him, to get to know him better. After all, she was going to spend several days, perhaps even weeks in this place.

In the afternoon, a man in a lab coat brought her a tray of food and asked her if she needed something else. My family, she thought, but she didn’t say it aloud. She hoped she would be reunited with them soon, when this nightmare ended. 

Tonight, she prayed that his father would be free. She prayed that the Night King and the White Walkers would be defeated. 

She prayed that they wouldn’t have to mourn any deaths. 

*

The next day she didn’t see Mr Baelish. This time, when she was brought dinner and asked if she needed something, she asked for books. If she couldn’t talk with a loved one, she would read. Books have always comforted her. 

The man in the lab coat nodded and said he would ask Mr Baelish.

*

The next morning, Ava showed up in her room.

“Lord Baelish had told me to show you the library,” she announced.

Sansa followed her eagerly.

Though deep down she felt disappointed that Mr Baelish had asked Ava instead of doing it himself. Perhaps he was sleeping. Was it true that vampires slept until sunset?

Why did she want him to escort her to the library?

She didn’t know why, but she wanted to see him again.

*

Several days passed, and Sansa settled into a routine. She spent most of the time in the library, reading books on mythology and trying not to think of her family and friends.

She also tried not to think of Mr Baelish either. Why hadn’t seen her since her arrival? Was he trying to avoid her or had he just forgotten that she was here? Perhaps he was busy trying to find the cure to become human again.

Wasn’t it better this way? Everyone minding their own business. Her rational mind told her that the answer was yes, but something inside her didn't agree.

One day, she couldn’t bear it any longer and walked to his office after sunset. 

“Come in.”

Sansa hadn’t told anyone she’d be visiting him today so Mr Baelish probably thought it was one of his employees.

Sansa opened the door and stepped inside.

He was scribbling down something in his notebook, so Sansa closed the door and stood there awkwardly. 

When he finally lifted his head, he froze.

“Hi,” she said timidly and took a step forward, but paused when he tensed and pushed the chair back.

The invisible barrier.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She hurried to step back and lifted her hands in a placating manner.

He breathed in and shut his eyes for a moment. He’d grown pale. Sansa hoped he wasn't in pain. When he opened them again, he set the pen on the desk and stood from his chair.

“It’s okay,” he said. He adjusted his suit jacket and watched her face. “Why are you here?” He didn't sound annoyed but curious.

“I just wanted to visit you. We haven’t had the opportunity to talk since my arrival.”

The corner of his mouth curved upwards.

“This is a courtesy visit, then,” he said. The idea seemed to amuse him.

“Yes. Somehow."

“And what do you want to talk about, Sansa?” He said her name as if savouring it, and she shivered, but it wasn’t from fear.

She didn’t know if he used his seduction techniques with his victims, but he definitely could.

Her thought caught her off guard. Where had this thought come from? 

What was she doing here? She didn't know. She just knew that she wanted to get to know him.

What could she talk about with him? It was probably best to avoid any vampire related topics. If he weren't a vampire, what would they talk about?

Best to avoid talking about the past too.

She thought about the myths she'd been reading over the past few days, how they'd helped distract from reality. She hadn't had the opportunity to thank him yet. 

"I haven't had the opportunity to thank you for the books," she said and offered him a genuine smile. "Your library is impressive," she added. He must like reading too. She wondered what his favorite was.

He shrugged and averted his eyes.

"It's just books," he said as if it weren't a big deal, but Sansa knew he was pleased.

It was progress, as little as it might seem. 

"I've been reading myths," she continued. "I was familiar with some of them, but there were others I'd never heard about."

He nodded.

"There must be thousands of myths all over the world," he said. He spoke the next words in a cautious tone: "And there are hundreds of myths about vampires. Contrary to the popular belief, many of them don't look like humans.” His eyes darkened. “They look straight out of a nightmare, though I suppose, there’s not really a big difference between them and us. A monster is always a monster, no matter their looks."

"You are not a monster." The words spilled out of her mouth before she could realize. Her first instinct had been to comfort him. She hadn't thought about the possibility that her words might hurt him.

But apparently, they did.

Mr Baelish clenched his jaw, and for the first time, she saw desperation in his eyes. Something heavy pressed against her chest.

She hated seeing him like this.

"I'm a vampire, Sansa. A monster."

"No." Her tone sounded firmer this time. She resisted the urge to approach him. She couldn't. Not while she was still wearing the stone necklace. "You are not a monster. A monster wouldn't have told their employees to wear protection."

His lips pressed into a thin line before curving upwards. It wasn’t a happy smile. _Oh you've read me all wrong,_ his expression seemed to say.

"I need them," he said. "I've managed to create a small world here, in this skyscraper. Everyone here, the scientists, the security guards, the cooks, the cleaners… I need all of them to make this work."

To find a cure.

It sounded reasonable, Sansa admitted. But she knew this wasn't the whole truth.

"A monster wouldn't want me to be safe," she said, stubbornly. 

"Sansa…" A pained expression flashed across his face. He shook his head, but Sansa saw the truth beneath his mask.

There was good in him. The transformation hadn't turned him into a monster.

She gathered the courage to say:

"Mr Baelish, you're not a monster. What happened to you is awful, but you still have a heart. And you shouldn't isolate yourself. I… We could spend some time together. That's it, if you want. I’d like to." She didn't know where she was going with this. She just knew that she didn't want to see him suffer.

He glanced at his notebook. Sansa felt as if an invisible barrier were surrounding him instead of the other way around, and Mr Baelish seemed unwilling to let her in. 

"Sorry, you probably have to go back to word," she said, trying not to sound disappointed, and turned away. What did she expect? That he would be eager to spend time with her? A Stark?

"Wait." His voice stopped her.

Her heart skipped a beat. She looked back at him. Perhaps...

He swallowed thickly as if his own reaction had caught him off guard and he didn't know what to say now. He looked down at his notebook once more as if searching for the right words in there. Then, he met her eyes again.

"You could come here at ten, if you like," he said hesitantly.

Sansa's face lit up.

"I'd love that."

*

Mr Baelish was still wearing his suit when Sansa went back to his office. 

“Come, let’s sit there,” he motioned to a large semi circular sofa at the end of the room.

Sansa followed him from a distance. 

They sat at the opposite sides of the sofa. Petyr crossed his legs and watched her. Sansa knew he was waiting for her to speak. She’d suggested spending some time together and he’d agreed. It was her turn to make a move, but she felt as if keeping her balance on the robe. She didn’t want to ruin this.

“Shortly after I left your office I got a letter from Jon,” she said tentatively. “He asked me to thank you for the dagger.”

Mr Baelish tilted his head.

“Let’s hope the prophecies are true and that’s really the weapon to defeat the Night King and the White Walkers,” he replied.

“Yes, but nothing will change the fact that you did a good thing.”

“I did it for myself too. It would be a shame to spend so much time trying to find a cure only to end up living in a world of ashes,” he said, and for the first time Sansa saw a playful smile upon his lips, and his eyes flickered, and Sansa felt as if watching the old Mr Baelish, the man before the transformation.

Something warm filled her. She wanted to bring back his past-self, if only for the moments they share. She hurried to return his smile. 

“You would be a good king of the ashes, though” she said.

“Oh.” He raised an eyebrow, the smile still on his face. “Why do you think so?”

“I don’t know. You look like someone capable of thriving in the chaos.”

His eyes widened. Sansa wondered if she’d gone too far, but then, he chuckled. The sound made her beam. She wished she could shift closer to him, but the necklace stood between them like a wall.

“I like that,” he said. “The King of the Ashes and Chaos. I could order a plaque to put on my office.”

Sansa laughed.

A comfortable silence settled over the room. Mr Baelish looked down at his hands and said in a quiet tone:

“You know, today is my birthday. My first birthday since… since the transformation.”

Oh. She remained silent, trying to think of a tactful way to reply. Wishing him a happy birthday didn’t seem like a proper answer. He didn’t seem willing to celebrate and he probably thought today wasn’t a special day. But he’d told her, and Sansa appreciated that. He was opening up.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said. She’d like to do something special for him though. Something that made this day different from the others, that took his mind off his research if only for a few minutes. “I’d like to give you a gift.”

He shook his head.

“You don’t have to give me anything. I just… I don’t know why I told you.”

She knew why. He’d hoped something would change. He’d hoped his words would open a door to a new path, and he was willing to walk along it if he was given the chance.

Sansa also wanted to see where that path would carry them.

“I’m glad you did. And I want to give you a gift, but I don’t know...” She paused. Actually, there was something she could give him. She’d studied music at an academy and all her teachers said she had a voice that transported those who heard it to an ethereal world, where there was no sorrow. She could give him a song, but would it be special enough?

“Would you like to hear me sing?”

He sucked in a breath.

“A song?”

“Yes. I know it’s not much but…”

“It’s perfect.” He cut her off. He swallowed thickly. 

*

She closed her eyes because it was easier this way. Although she’d sung in theaters and churches and parties, it felt like the first time every time.

This time her audience was only one person, but it didn’t feel less intimidating. In truth, it felt almost more intimidating, but not because he was a vampire. It felt more intimidating because he was Mr Baelish. Sansa didn’t know if it made sense, but that was what she felt. 

So she kept her eyes closed until she hit the last note. Then, she opened her eyes and braced herself for a look of disappointment or indifference.

Something tightened around her chest.

Mr Baelish was crying.

*

Her first instinct was to comfort him.

This time, she didn’t hold back.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone alarmed. Silent tears were still sliding down his cheeks.

Sansa had taken off her stone necklace.

“Sansa, don’t. It’s dangerous.”

“You won’t hurt me.” She placed the stone necklace on the sofa arm and stood up. 

His gaze didn’t darken. He looked afraid.

“How do you know?” he asked. His eyes fell upon the stone necklace, but he didn’t ask her to put it on again.

He wanted her to be correct. 

When he looked back at her, Sansa spoke:

“I trust you. There’s light in you, Mr Baelish. I can see it right now. I can see your defiant hope, your strength. You want to believe it’s possible to be around people without attacking them. You are not alone. You’re not a monster. I’m here and I’m willing to show you that I’m right. Let me get close to you. Please.” 

“I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you,” he said, his tone raw.

“You won’t. Please, let me come closer.”

He swallowed thickly. Sansa saw the questions swirling around her head. What if she was correct? What if the light was stronger than the darkness? What if the transformation hadn’t turned him into a monster after all? Her words had seemed to lit a flame within him. He wanted to be closer to her. Desperately.

How long since he’d touched another human being?

“Okay,” he said. His voice sounded hoarse.

Sansa approached him slowly. His breath was ragged, but the expression in his eyes didn’t change. The vampire was locked somewhere, trapped in a place where he couldn’t hurt anyone. 

She heard Mr Baelish breath out when she sat next to him.

Her knees almost brushed against his when she moved to face him. She smiled.

“Are you alright?” she asked him.

An incredulous look flashed across his face.

“I can smell your blood but I don’t want to bite you,” he said. "I don't know if it's you… if there's some kind of conexion between us that stops me from hurting you… But I think you're safe with me."

Sansa laughed, and it was a cheerful sound, like birds singing, like bells chiming before a celebration.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said.

He breathed in. Slowly, his face broke into a smile, and he looked younger. 

“It’s a yes,” he said. His cheeks were still damp, but he didn't look desperate anymore. He looked at peace now.

He lowered his eyes.

Sansa followed the direction of his gaze. He was looking at her hands, and she knew he was wondering if it would be too risky to touch her. But it had been so long since the last time he'd touched bare skin. The yearning was stronger than any doubts he could have.

Tentatively, he reached for her left hand. Sansa held her breath when he laced his fingers through hers. Surprisingly, her hand was colder than his. His warmth embraced her, like the sunlight during a summer day, and Sansa wondered if his heart had also begun pounding harder.

For he had a heart, and the transformation hadn't turned it into ice, now she knew.

She lifted her head.

Their eyes met, and for the first time since her arrival, Sansa felt that she was where she was supposed to be. 

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“I’m glad to be here.” She squeezed his hand. Together they'd be stronger, she thought, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she said: “We’ll find a cure, Mr Baelish.”

She knew what her words implied. That she was willing to stay if the Night King and the White Walkers were defeated before the scientists found the cure.

She knew what her words implied because she'd chosen them carefully.

He also seemed to know for he looked down at their hands intertwined and parted his lips. Then, he stared into her eyes, and the corners of his mouth curved upwards, and Sansa saw hope on his face, a defiant hope, and also trust.

In her, in himself.

And in the future.

“Please, call me Petyr.”


End file.
